Sunday, April 22, 2018

1st 5 Pages April Workshop- Jolley Rev 2

Vera, a nineteen-year-old artist with a dream of freedom, has a choice to make:
marry her enemy or condemn her parents to death.

Vera hates the Grays. She hates that they own her small country and act like
uncivilized brutes. But it’s not the taxes and dictates that turned her heart
to hostility. That happened when the Grays killed her best friend.

So when Vera chooses to marry the prince to save her family, the sacrifice
takes all her courage and determination. While Prince Angus Gray plans the
wedding, she plans her rebellion. Using her new position of power, Vera
determines to free her country and destroy the Grays from the inside.

Vera joins the Gray’s training squad, bent on learning all she can about her
enemy. As she gains strength and skill, she can’t help gaining a better
understanding and appreciation for the Grays. Her hatred for the Grays was
built on a foundation of her father’s carefully constructed lies. When the time
comes to kill Angus Gray, she learns where her true loyalties lie and how far
she will go for love.

Revision:

I hated the Grays. I hated all the thugs from Alta Belle, but especially Bear
Gray—my so-called king, and his son, Angus—my future king.

Not if I can help it.

I twisted knobs as I looked through the telescope. A pack of horsemen came into
focus, trotting up the cobbled main street toward the Cromarty Institute. My
home. Not theirs.

“So many,” I said.

“Fifty, I guess,” said my sister, Lanie, peering down at the intruders from the
observatory windows.

Why? Last spring the Grays had come to check up on us with only twelve of their
terrifying warriors. My lashes brushed the lens. A dozen of the Gray’s vicious
paxaro birds patrolled the skies. The Gray flag, depicting twin trees, waved
from the front line of riders, right next to the king.

The tyrant wore a leather coat with fur trimming. In the temperate climate of
Campbell, he’d opened the coat and pulled the hood back, revealing a bearded
face, curling brown hair and deep-set eyes. At Bear’s side, his son rode a
black horse. Coatless and hatless, Angus sat lazily on his beastly mount.
Tilted shoulders and loosely held reins exuded arrogance.

Go away. “Come on,” I said. “They’re almost at the courtyard.”

“I’m not greeting them like this.” Lanie motioned to her khaki skirt,
lace-collared tunic, and cardigan. The same daily outfit I wore.

Who cares? Like they can tell cashmere from canvas. “Secret spot.”

Lanie nodded with a grin.

We fled down five flights of stairs to the storeroom on the ground floor. Dad
would have lectured us for hours on propriety if he’d known his daughters had
stuffed into a closet to spy on our guests.

I climbed onto a barrel and propped open the glass. We pressed our cheeks
together and peered through the narrow window at the granite-paved courtyard,
now packed with ruffians. Horses steamed and grunted—more daunting than the
district train.

His unwelcome highness, Bear Gray, dismounted from an enormous horse. A dagger
hung from one hip, a pistol from the other. Worn leather pants wrapped thick
legs. Like many of his men, Bear wore a blue plaid button up. Only his air of
cold authority distinguished him as the ultimate power here.

Dad strode into the courtyard wearing a pressed suit, broad smile, and Mom on
his right elbow. “Majesty.” Dad lowered his head to the king. “Welcome to
Campbell and to the Cromarty Institute.”

The two men stood eye to eye, but Bear looked twice the weight and triple the
strength. Bear’s nose buckled in the middle and bent slightly right. He’d
broken it two years ago in the uprising and he’d never set it properly—a
warning to would-be rebels. Rebels like me. Ian had broken the king’s nose. The
king killed him. And his entire family. Skirts caught in my clenching fist.

Prince Angus Gray strode from the pack of horses and stood next to Bear. At
twenty, Angus stood a palm taller than his father and had the same thick brown
hair, although his was cropped short as his ears. His brow appeared permanently
furrowed and his jaw remained clenched—as if his stony face would be enough to
cow us into submission for another year.

Leave us alone.

“Well,” Lanie said. “Angus has improved over the last year. Much better without
the beard.”

“Shush.” I was missing the outside conversation. And seeing his sharp jaw
didn’t improve the situation.

“We have the West Tower prepared for you and your party,” Mom said. “I thought
you’d like to freshen up after your ride and enjoy lunch before our meetings.”

The travelers looked like they’d had a romp in brown paint. Animal stink puffed
through the window.

“We’ll speak in private now,” Bear said to Dad.

Lanie and I shared a look at his ominous tone.

Mom directed the fifty filthy barbarians away. Dad led a small group inside the
East Tower, where we lived. A paxaro bird strutted in after the king. Dad’s
brow pinched in worry, and his lips turned down at the corners.

Lanie hopped off the barrel, but I watched the warriors from Alta Belle a
moment longer—muscle, iron, and stench. I needed a good plan if I had any hope
of removing them with our puny arms. If only Ian were still here. He’d filled
my head with dreams of revolution. He’d painted a bright future of freedom. But
he wasn’t here.

The Grays had made sure of that.

I snuck out the back of the West Tower. Cutting a wide circle, I slipped in the
East Tower and padded down a white plaster-walled hallway. A table bearing
juice and pastries had been set up outside the meeting room doors, right below
the air vent—my only chance of overhearing Dad’s meeting with the king.

A spindly shadow appeared on the tablecloth. The claw snagged the fabric. My
covering ripped down. I yelped. Glass and chocolate splintered on the ground. A
silver paxaro landed on the tiles in front of my hiding spot. Beady eyes
glared. I stifled a scream. The bird, tall as a three-year-old, cocked its
head.

“Spy,” the bird said, its voice like fingernails on a chalkboard.

I held a protective hand in front of my face, imagining its sharp beak spearing
my eyeballs. “No, I’m not,” I whispered to the bird.

“Liar,” the bird said. Round intelligent eyes scanned my face.

Angus’s dirty boots thumped into view. A knife appeared next to his calf. Fear,
as sharp as the tip of his blade, spiked my chest.

“Come out, spy.” The bird shifted onto one wiry foot and held up a clawed hand
as if it would pull me out—probably by the neck. It could crush my windpipe
with its grasp. Talons glinted.

“It’s just me,” I said in a loud voice. I scrambled out, empty hands up and hot
face down.

“Vera!” Dad’s voice was a cocktail of shock (fake) and disapproval (real).

Angus’s blade had disappeared by the time I lifted my eyes to his big empty
hands.

“Couldn’t wait to see us?” Angus asked. Amusement played across gray eyes.

I never want to see you. “Please excuse me.”

Bear’s chuckles crackled up my spine.

“What were you doing?” Angus asked.

“I dropped something under the table.” I stiffened as he studied my face.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Angus said.

Dad stepped up to Angus’s side. “An excellent quality.”

Liar. Dad hated that about me. Dad knew how to make lies slid off
his tongue like silk. He knew how to use his well formed weapon well—his words.
If I had half his skill, I wouldn’t be standing here like a mouse with her paw
caught in the cream.

I'd leave out "fifty" here in "filthy barbarians"since you mentioned it earlier and its a tongue twister.

"Wolfton’s whinny voice" Did you mean whinny like in a horse sound or whiny and in childish?

"The claw snagged the fabric. My covering ripped down. I yelped. Glass and chocolate splintered on the ground." I'd have the glass and chocolate happen right after "snagged the fabric," moving cause and effect closer.

This confused me. "Angus’s blade had disappeared by the time I lifted my eyes to his big empty hands." From her POV, how did she know it had been in his hands?

About your pitch:I love your story idea. Great stakes and compelling situation. I'd move the first line into the second paragraph where you tell us she chooses to marry Angus. Maybe instead of when the times comes - when the opportunity arises ... I love the last line, as you don't tell us but we can guess. Sounds like a very interesting read. Well done!

Overall, I think this is a strong opening. Great job setting the scene and establishing the conflict.

I like that you give us a little more about Ian. Could you give us evene more about his and Vera's relationship? Understanding how much he meant to Vera will help us see the Grays through her eyes and understand why she hates them so much. Not only will this help us relate to her now, but that will provide a bigger payoff later on when Vera realizes her perception of the Grays is based on her father's lies. This makes me curious, does Vera also discover later on that Ian's motives weren't as noble as she thought? I like the personal connection that Ian is the one who broke the king's nose.

"...with our puny arms" – In the pitch you tell us Vera will join the Gray training squad. You could add something here that gives us a hint of how the Grays and their people maintain their military might, to tie into Vera's later decision.

Small note: the phrase "freshen up" feels very modern. Make sure you're conscious in how you use phrases like this as you shape your world.

Pitch:

Personally, I like "Vera hates the Grays" as an opening line. One idea (and just that) would be to move the choice about marrying her enemy into the third paragraph: "Now Vera must either marry Prince Angus Gray or condemn her parents to death. While Angus plans the wedding, she plans her rebellion (Love this sentence!)."

"...they own her small country" – "own" doesn't feel like the strongest verb choice here. Something like "conquered" or "oppressed" would give us a clearer sense of how Vera perceives the Grays.

I'd love to see a specific detail as to how the Grays aren't as bad as Vera thought. What does she learn that makes her question her assassination plans? A strong detail here will help us feel her internal conflict. I really like that (based on the hints you give us) her conflict is more than Vera falling for Angus. Her choice will affect her entire country.

Your last sentence sets up the stakes, but I'm concerned here that "where her true loyalties lie" and "how far she will go for love" are a little cliché. Is there a way you can say this that's more specific to your story?

I don't think we need to know Vera's an artist in the pitch. I would keep the focus on her being a rebel.

Pitch: first of all, will you come write my query for me? K, thanks ☺ I do agree, though, that describing her as an artist at the beginning threw me since nothing about art is mentioned in the rest of the pitch. I also think starting with the second paragraph might make the pitch stronger.I love the line about while he plans the wedding, she plans her rebellion. So great! And I love the conflict that you set up, between having to choose between Angus and her family!

Pages:I love how you’ve added new details – like about Ian breaking the King’s nose. You also do a great job of adding a variety of details – temperature, smell, sounds, etc.One question I had: it seems like some of this is in a more modern setting (like the clothing, or presence of an air vent) so I assume there is a reason for the Grays being on horses? I think the air vent detail is great because it pulled me out of assuming I was in a medieval setting, but maybe a few more details like that would make it seem more intentional – like having them go down an elevator instead of the stairs, for example.I’ve always loved these pages, you do an amazing job!

This looks great, and I love the intrigue! You set up the two sides of the conflict so well, and tease that twist in your pitch. If anything, I would have loved a little more specificity in the pitch—for example, what does Vera have to save her family from (death? jail? banishment?), how specifically does she plan to bring down the ruling family, and maybe tease a few of the lies her father told her. The clearer the conflict, the more tense and exciting the pitch.

The pages are great and really set up your characters well. I knew exactly who all these people were and what they wanted. But I would have wanted a little more context clues when you introduced new world-specific lingo. When it comes to world-building, the tricky part is balancing just enough information to ground your reader and keep them intrigued, and too much information and inundating them with facts they don't need right away. But, I think including a little bit of context (like what kind of place Alta Belle is, what a paxaro looks like, who Ian and Wolfton are, etc.) could do a lot to really establish these characters and concepts in the reader's mind.

Overall, this is a really strong idea and execution, and you're on a great track!

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Our May workshop will open for submissions on Saturday, May 5th at noon, EST. Participants will be mentored by two published authors through three rounds of revisions and receive additional feedback from our literary agent mentor on their first five pages and their pitch.The agent mentor will offer additional feedback to the best of the five manuscripts in the workshop.